


Bite the Apple, and Into the Fade.

by NightmareLoki



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 20:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6872596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightmareLoki/pseuds/NightmareLoki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Try as he might, Dorian did not make up with his father within the tavern and in turn, had sparked the makings of a villain in him. Halward makes effort to hunt him down, sending a mage hunter of sorts on him. Through magical means, Dorian's mind is sent to the Fade, his body being left behind in reality. His father wishes to try the ritual in a mental plane, believing if he was unable to get to him and physically doing the ritual, there had to be a chance of corrupting his mind within the Fade. It's up to Dorian to get out of the Fade as his body remains lifeless in the real world. A worried Bull wishes to keep him alive, knowing full well there was more to all of this. He would find out what, he had to. Before everyone wishes to send the mage's body to a fitting grave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Strike

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt I had saw randomly the night before I started writing this. The summary went along the lines of, Dorian becomes a bad ass Snow White. I was curious about this prompt and wished to try it. I'm a wee bit rusty, sadly, but I really wanted to try something new!
> 
> I'll also add tags as things unfold. I am winging this, so apologies for errors and whatnot. I'm excited to get something posted for y'all! <3

The evening was growing late, though the festivities were just starting in the great hall of Skyhold. A gathering of many people, some noblemen, some middle class peasants, others that traveled from halfway around the world to attend. All wishing to be in the presence of the Inquisitor Adaar and her Inquisition. It was to be a meeting of peace and discussion on their next act against the portals that continued to spit demons out with each passing moment. Sure, they could close one at a time, but that can only go so far. They weren't immortal or anything. Most living beings need breaks too. A sigh escaped the Tevinter mage as he took gentle steps through the crowd. Vivienne was greeting a great deal of the noblemen. Winning several of their hearts with ease, though, she just as quickly turned them down. . Blackwall was in one of the many corners, not really sulking, but observing. He'd loosen up, eventually. Solas was no where to be seen. Probably in his study just a few doors away. If he wanted to get away from the gathering, he should try for the cellar or the kitchen. It was loud enough that no one could really hear their own thoughts without proper concentration. He smiled at the though. An annoyed Solas. There was perhaps no real way to get away from all the noise. Oh well. He shrugged and continued to look with his silver shaded eyes. Curious as to what else he'd find. His gaze finally locked onto Adaar and a small handful of peasant folk, discussing stories of her grand adventures and what she hops to do in the very near future. Some laughing echoed around them and Dorian knew it was not an entirely serious conversation. Good. The Inquisitor needed to have some joy in her dark life. Banishing demons all day can really effect one's mood for quite some time.   
  
"Hey, sparkler, you try the wine? It's really sweet! I'm making sure I have some before you get your pretty hands on it." A low voice boomed and Dorian was forced to look down at the small Dwarf Rogue. The man smiled big, having obviously had several glasses already. Dorian smirked back, feeling his mustache tickle his cheek just a tad.   
  
"I'll...keep that in mind, yes. Thank you, Varric." He nodded, still smirking as the Dwarf chuckled back. "Though, I would like to think you've had more than enough, given the face your making." He tilted his head towards him as his eyes glanced around once more before focusing back to the Rogue.   
  
"Nooonsense! I'm fine! Best I've felt in ages! Seriously, you should get some before it's gone..!" He added, stepping away with a wink, trotting wuickly towards the Inquisitor and offering his wise words into the current story. Shaking his head, Dorian figured now was better than any other time to grab a glass or two. He made way to the bar, passing several people and was given a lovely pat on his shoulder from a passer by. He turned with a raised brow, not meaning to give off such a confused look. It was a man, eyes half open and a smile wide as ever.   
  
"Ser Pavus?" He was greeted with. Dorian stopped his walk in full, the hand still on his shoulder. "Yes?" Tone spoke with hints of confusion. There were many strangers here, but he did not give his last name so openly in the room just yet. Perhaps someone said something, who knew, but it still took Dorian off guard just a tad. It was a face he had never seen before. Though, the skin showed signs of being tan and well kept. Not a scratch on the older man's face. He was, perhaps, in his forties, not too old but enough to show he's seen a great deal of things in his life. The man bowed lowering his head steady. "It is an honor to meet you in person. I've heard many a stories involving your talents and power. All aiming to bring peace to this breaking world. I thank you." The man stated. His accent dripping with tones of Tevinter. It was enough to make the Mage stutter just slightly.   
  
"I-I..yes, well, thank you, good sir." He bowed his head back, but it wasn't as long. A quick little bow and a small smile. "It's an honor to help. I hope we can succeed with this mission and then we can work on truly bringing peace." His words were, somewhat, false, but he did not wish to be bitter this evening. He wanted to express joy and move on form the dark things of the past. The future seemed to be bright, even with the threat of the end of the world by some old Magister's creepy hands. But they were looking past him and onto the possibilities of what lay before them.   
  
"Well, it is good to see someone representing Tevinter in such a positive light. There are not many who can do such a thing." The older man nodded, his smile warm, but his eyes seemed searching. Dorian simply shook his head. "By no means am I a good man. I just wished to do what was right. That should be the case for anyone, no matter where they come from, sir." He tilted his head a tad, almost giving off a small smolder. The man chuckled with a shake of his head, his feet moving him away and towards others. "Don't look so down on yourself, ser." He finished, giving a wave.  
  
"You're to become a great legacy, after all." His words were of a whisper, his grin shifting to a sinister type of smile, but Dorian paid no mind to it. He wanted some of that wine Varric was talking about. Making it to the tables of various goods, Dorian grabbed a free glass and began pouring himself some, watching it carefully, as if he were painting.  
  
"Finally." A deep, booming voice echoed behind him. Dorian did not move. "I was wonderin' when you'd get your hands on this stuff."  A small chuckle left Dorian.  
  
"Bull." The Mage's voice was content, joyful even, to know Bull came down on his own volition. He was proud of him, almost. Feeling the Qunari's body against him showed what he feared.  
  
No shirt. Again. A small sigh escaped the mage.   
  
"You could not even wear a vest?" He stated, slowly turning to the Bull with a wide smile, eyes wide as he looked over his amatus. A large armed shrug followed. "Hey, it was warm out, and I'd rather not deal with the buttons.." He stated with a sigh, raising his hands and wiggling the fingers he had. "These fingers aren't really meant to put buttons through holes. Not without a few popping off." He chuckled. Dorian soon followed in the chuckle. "You can always ask me for help, you know?" He snarked back, swirling the red wine with a hum to his tone. Bull simply rolled his eye. "And have you pick on me and my sausage fingers? Not a chance." He leaned in, gently brushing his lips against the Mage's cheek. A light peck was given and Dorian gave off a grunt of approval. He could feel his warm breath brush against his skin, the prickle of his chin hair against his shaved jaw. "You need a shave, dear Bull." Dorian mumbled, holding back a louder chuckle. The warrior moved his head back, eye looking down at the turned mage. He turned Dorian by his shoulders and brought him into a small hug. Dorain, being cautious, move his hands out of the way so the wine would not spill. His free hand gently patted the Bulls's side.   
  
"Is this an 'I really missed you" hug?" He asked curiously, making sure nothing were to spill. Bull nodded. "Am I that obvious?" He asked with hints of sarcasm. Dorian simply scoffed as the hug broke and he took a sip from the glass. "It's alright. I don't know many who wouldn't want to be in between those strong arms of yours." He laughed again as he made sure to take another quick sip. Bull continued to stare, smiling with that ever loving smile he always held when they were alone. Even among the crowd, it felt as if the room held just Bull and himself. Dorian could live with that. But, alas, he still had guests to entertain. Anything for the lovely Inquisitor. She had a lot on her plate, even though she was a Qunari, there was only so much to pairs of hands can do.   
  
"Well, I will take my leave, Bull. Later tonight, perhaps?" He asked with a raised brow.   
  
"My room or yours?" The Iron Bull stated with his loving grin growing sly. A tsk and a shake of his head, the Mage finished off the last of the wine that he had sipped through the conversation. Though, it all seemed to still, his fingers loosened and dropped the glass as fast as gravity could take it. Dorian's form slumped and his eyes were hazed. Thankfully, Bull was near by and ran to catch him before his body could land on any of the glass.   
  
"Dorian??" Bull asked, wondering if he had just tripped or chugged too fast. But he was not given a reply, not even a witty remark for his quickness. Instead, he was met with half lidded eyes and an expression of shock and pain. "Dorian? Are you alright? What happened?" Bull asked, his other hand moving to his face, rubbing the cheek he had kissed only moments ago. Still. No reply. He shifted the body, trying to find a wound of some kind. Anything to give reason for his behavior. His eye landed right onto a weird green sliver at the dead center of his back. Like some odd mist, it went away, leaving no wound or any evidence. Bull had no idea what that was, or why it was there, but he could not point it out to anyone now. Some of the guests were ignoring the two or were far enough not to notice. That is, till Bull began to shout for medical.  
  
"Hey-! We need medical over here! Something happened to Dorian!" He called, gaining the attention of the Inquisitor. Bull continued to look down at the fallen Mage, noticing his eyes had fully closed, lips parted and expression still pained. Bull's heart raced. "Come on, big guy, stay with me." His voice shook, trying everything in his power to stay calm. But the more he stared, the more he worried. The sounds of rushing feet gathered and Bull remained at Dorian's side. His hand falling at one of his wrists, gripping just slightly, only to gasp.   
  
"What is it!? Did something happen to him?" Vivienne asked with haste, stepping through the party guests and knelt down by both of them. Bull did not look up. The Qunari's head remained lowered. "Bull." Vivienne asked once more. No reply.  
  
"Bull!" The Inquisitor called, finally breaking through to the inner circle. Her voice deep and powerful enough to part the crowd. She let out a small gasp as she noticed the fallen body of Dorian. A shattered glass and a crumbling Bull. "What happened?" Adaar asked with mimicking haste of Vivienne who still knelt in waiting. A doctor and a handful of nurses came over, prepared to look over him. Poison? Was he shot? A dagger? Was there a spy among them?  Finally, a breath and Bull was beginning to speak.   
  
"There's no pulse on him." He growled. "Bull, hand him over to the healers. We've got to move." Adaar ordered where Bull hesitantly, but quickly moved to follow. They carried him off with haste as Bull stood and the party guests began to clear by order of the guardsmen. Seems they were all at risk and Dorian was the unlucky guy to be hit first. Dammit. Bull's fists tightened and their color changed, but he did not move. Adaar looked to him, worry in her gaze. "Bull, what happened to him?!" Bull shook his head.   
  
"I-I don't know. We were talking just fine, he had some wine, we laughed, he turned and just..fell." He stated, remembering what just occurred. "It all happened so fast. He didn't even speak." His tone was shaken, obviously of anger and fear for Dorian. "If he dies from this, I.." A gentle touch to his arm made his words stop entirely. "We'll figure this out, Bull. Right now, we'll keep him with the healers." Bull nodded after several moments and moved with Adaar as the rest of the Inquisition tried to sort of the ordeal.   
  
\--------------------------------  
  
What ran though Dorian's mind was panic, confusion, and pain. All things Dorian did not wish to experience this evening, but it seems not everyone can get what they want. He remembers feeling his body go limp, the last thing he saw was the glass on the floor and the three fingered hand of Bull grabbing him. But that was it. His light eyes opened and a heavy gasp filled his lungs. Rising quickly, the Mage tried to get to his feet, but his body felt all kinds of heavy. "Wh-?" His body hurt. Everything was weighted and his vision was completely blurred. He still had his clothes on, which is good. Yes. Good. It would do him no good to freeze in such a state. His eyes blinked several times while his fingers flexed, trying to regain all touch before moving much further. He felt tingly, as if a thousand needles were prickling him all over at once.   
  
"Hello?" Dorian finally called out into the howling wind that surrounded him. He could feel his hair was off, the gust of wind brushing his bare shoulder and face. Where was he? All he could see was fog. Green fog. Dark stone and a lime green sky. Wait. He had seen this before.   
  
"No.." He whispered in shock. It couldn't be. Could it? Was he dreaming?    
  
"Hello!?" He called out once more.  
  
"Please, why am I here?!" The Mage got to his feet, fighting all urge to sit back down and curl into a ball. He raised a hand, touching his face. Okay, he was here. Even made effort to pinch his cheek. "Gah-!" Okay, most definitely here.  
  
Damn.  
  
Panic was beginning to grab him by the throat. It was one thing to go with the Inquisitor and the others, but now... he was on his own. No one replied to his calls. No signs of life anywhere. He didn't even have his staff on him. He tried to stay calm. Tried to keep focused. Perhaps if he wandered enough, he could get out. He had to. There's no way he'd stay trapped here. He wouldn't allow it. With one foot in front of the other, the Tevinter Mage began his trek into the Fade. His skin shivered, feeling the chill of the air break into his very form. He had to try. To sit and do nothing is a death sentience. He had to figure out why he was here. How did he even get here? All things he wished to know and hoped he would find out the further he ventured in. He kept quiet and his head low, hands to his sides in efforts to prepare for a fight.  
  
"Not entirely how I wanted to spend the evening." He confessed to himself mainly as his feet continued to crunch through the dark dirt and ash.   
  
This was going to be a long day. Night. Whatever time it was here.


	2. The Quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A worried Bull finds some answers, only to gain more questions that are left blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am honest to god winging this and I am sorry.

Arms crossed and horns against the wall, the Iron Bull sat by the door where just inside lay Dorian's body being healed and inspected by the nurses and their healers. It was several hours past when the Mage randomly collapsed in the middle of an engagement. Thank the gods of any religion that he was able to catch him and at least see something. Whatever that something was, he did not know, all he knew was, this was not some random fainting spell by the silly Mage. No. There was something more to this. The Qunari could smell it. At least, he thought. He sat down as soon as the door closed, waiting patently. A nurse would come out and he would stand, only to be told he could not come in.Not yet. He'd huff and cross his arms again, waiting as patent as his blood would allow.   
  
Finally, instead of someone in medical robes passing by him, they stood in front of him, a look of uncertainty over his face. "Apologies for the wait, Iron Bull. If you could please come in with me..?" He asked with a wave of his hand towards the door. Nodding, Bull followed, quickly, nearly passing by the doctor. His eye landed towards the bed near the corner. Several scrolls and papers alike were brushed around the desks that surrounded the bed where Dorian lay. He seemed peaceful. Calm. Not the worried and pain-filled expression Bull had saw on him hours earlier.   
  
"How is he?" Bull asked quickly. The Inquisitor stepping in a few seconds after, wondering the same thing. A heavy sigh left the healer. "It is uncertain. His pulse is near non existent. We'd get a reading every now and then, almost as if he's fighting something, but as of late, we've gotten stillness. His breathing seems to have stopped. We don't want to say..but.."  
  
"He's dead." Bull finished the sentience for him.   
  
"That's it, right? He's just...dead?" Anger was welling within the Bull's chest. His eye glaring down upon the human. Slowly, the healer's eyes shifted, only to drop to the floor with no answer. And that was all that needed to be said.  
  
"Dammit!" Bull yelled, swinging a fist to his side, trying to hit something, but only hit air. Inquisitor Adaar stepped in cautiously, nodding once to the healer.  
  
"Thank you for all you've done." She bowed her head.   
  
"Yeah, what good that did." Bull scoffed, eye closed with his teeth bare in a growl. The healer showed worried but moved quick to leave, taking what the Inquisitor said as a sign that he was allowed to do so. The door closed with a gentle click and Adaar turned to him with a sad expression.  
  
"He's not dead." Bull hissed, shaking his head. "He can't be, I know he's not. He was..poisoned or something. Had to be. The way he looked at me.." Bull was talking to himself mainly, breath shaken and hands curled into heavy fists. "There's more to this.." Adaar stepped further, his eyes forward towards the nicely laid Mage. Dorian's body was dressed down to his small clothes to make his check up easier to accomplish. He looked so relaxed. One could swear his lips were curled into a smile under that disheveled mustache of his. Adaar sighed. "We'll keep an eye on him. You're probably right, there's more to this. They did not say there was any poison in his system. His body seems fine, albeit still. One of the nurses made it sound as if he's frozen in time or something." He blinked, starting past Bull and towards the many papers scattered around them. "He'll be safe here. We'll get him back, Bull. I promise."   
  
Oh the Inquisitor. So nice and willing to try and bring some thread of hope to the Qunari. Sadly, Bull was having trouble believing what she said. Still, he had to trust her, as well as his own instincts. Nodding, the Bull turned away from Dorian, eye glancing at the Inquisitor only to move past and towards the door.   
  
"I'm going to get some food and a drink, then I'll be back here." He stated. Not as a request, but as a notification of where he'd be till further notice. Adaar nodded in return.  
  
"Of course." She turned towards the body and stepped further. "I hope you can hear me, Dorian." Her voice softer, but held a tone of demand.  
  
"I don't know what's happened to you, but you need to wake up."


	3. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian tries to get a grip within the Fade, only to come across a familiar face, and not one he'd like to see.

_Wake up._  
  
**Wake up.**  
\--------------------  
  
"Huh?" Dorian marched through the fade, body still trembling at the odd sensations of wind and ash falling around him, but through all the distraction and sound, he could've sworn he heard the voice of the Inquisitor. He couldn't have misheard it, could he? Shaking his head, Dorian moved, looking for something. Anything. A sign. Maybe he was lead here for a reason? Perhaps he was something special like the Inquisitor? A silly thought. He was jut a simple mage. As was the Inquisitor, but she was something more. Dorian understood why she was given such ability and power. She had the right head for it. A proper, kind mind. Dorian could see why Blackwall would be interested in her. As to why they've not..done anything, Dorian was uncertain. Perhaps a small date should be set for the two of them. If only Adaar wasn't so busy all the time.   
  
Oh, what silly things to think on at a time like this. Shaking his head, the Tevinter mage moved, gripping stone and ducking down and hiding from anything that moved. Thankfully, he seemed to be well enough alone where he was dropped off at. That was good. Or not. It depended on what he'd find. He almost began to regret not listening to Solas' little discussions on the Fade. He'd hear in and out of them, but that voice of his could grow so dull on one's ears if you're not prepared. Which, sadly, Dorian never was. He would often end up thinking about other things, or day dreaming. Nonsense, truly. But damn, if he listened better, he might've learned a thing or two more about the Fade that could help him this very moment. But no, he was here with his wits and whatever magic he could conjure. The idea to cast anything here worried him, so he refrained from even giving himself some fire to keep warm.  
  
Soon enough, his wanders found what looked to be a fallen temple. Rocks of various size were floating all around. Barely standing walls remained close to, almost inviting Dorian inside. Looking around through squinted eyes, the mage sighed and quickly rushed in. They looked fragile but they held this long. What's a little shelter for a few hours anyway? Slowly, he sat down, bringing his arms to his chest and holding himself, doing all he can to keep himself warm. It wasn't as if he was trekking through snow for ages. But the wind...the wind was so bitter. It felt like a thousand pins driving into him nonstop. It was torturous to say the least.  
  
"Get it together, Dorian. Try to figure this out.." He spoke to himself, lips dried from the venture. He had no idea how long he had been here. It felt like days, but his mind was only awake within the world for several hours. Day and night were becoming a myth. All he saw was green. A pale pathetic color all things considered. Dorian tried hitting himself, sleeping thinking this was a dream, tried various wakening spells but was met with puffs of smoke and failed attempts. Nothing seemed to be working in his favor. What was he supposed to do? Wander for all of his eternity? Would he even age here? Thinking further, Dorian sighed loudly. He figured he must look dreadful. Hair a mess, mustache of kilter. How terrible. He hoped he would have time to mend such things when..whatever is happening gets sorted.  
  
After some time sitting, too much sitting, in fact, Dorian quickly got to his feet. Something told him to move. He had to get away from this place. His ears were hearing various sounds. Claws against the dirt. Wind shifting and changing entirely. Something was coming and he had a feeling he should not meet it. The Mage gathered himself and tightened his boot before booking it. He shouldn't be running, he could miss a step and hurt himself, but he truly did not care. He just wanted to get out of here. He wanted to go home. Be in bed, curling with that lug of a Qunari. But no. He was here, running for his miserable life. Why had all wished this on him? At this moment, he felt as if he was the most unlucky man in the world. But even that would not make him give up. Not till there was a knife at his throat.  
  
Or his back.  
  
He quickly turned to a random direction, moving to do a mad dash. His breath returning to a mad pant, air becoming more and more difficult to reach. Confusion was filling his mind and clouding all judgment. He had so many questions, yet there was no one to ask. To be alone and unable to discuss the possibilities, he was getting close to talking to himself out in the open. There'd be no one to judge him. No one to mock him or wonder if he had been possessed. Though, he worried if that was the case in reality. He had to get back, and soon. But how?  
  
He went from a steady walk to a run. A sense of fear seeming to fill his mind and soul. Someone was here with him. But who? Was it the person who sent him here? It had to be. Sure, demons have been known to be smart, but not this smart, right?  To try and attack him, then leave him be. What was this? A test of some kind? A dream? No. No, he knew this was the Fade. And try as he might, he could not reawaken. This was all too weird. Even as a mage, he had never experienced something like this. At least not on his own.  
  
Pausing himself and catching his breath, Dorian leaned against one of the many boulders that were not floating around just yet.   
  
"Okay, there's got to be a reason to this, yes? Something... Perhaps a demon? I know I've thought on this, but perhaps it could be just that. A spirit of some kind..?" He recalled learning that Cole knew a great deal of the Fade. And Solas, he was someone else. Oh, why did he not listen better? A bitter question he would continue to ask himself regularly till he got out of here. Shaking his head, he pushed himself off the stone, but not before striking it with his hand. A sharp sting rushed over his hand and he quickly pulled it away. "Gah-!" He shook his hand and turned it to see a large cut had dug it's way into his palm. "Tch..." Already hurting himself. Great. His eyes glanced to the rock, seeing quite a bit of blood over the stone. What a waste. Holding it steadily, he tried to tear some of his robe away, making a makeshift bandage. Slowly, he tore at the fabric, not noticing the blood at the rock shift and form. In his weakness, Dorian felt a sudden lash over his throat, only to quickly tighten. His attention dropped completely and the tatters fell from his hand.  
  
"W-what?!" His face contorted to pain and terror. Eyes widened and looking around in shock. Heart pounding and his blood rattling in his body. He raised a hand to his neck, feeling a liquid sort of texture, though the liquid remained together. Gel-like, even. His eye glanced down to the fingers and he noticed a familiar color.   
  
"Blood."  
  
The pounding of his chest continued as his heart raced. He was being attacked after being trapped here for however long. Dorian was not the most comfortable, but could get by without being attacked. Now he was being strangled by some unknown..thing. He turned slowly, trying to see what it was, only to blink in confusion at what he saw. The place where he had struck himself on the rock... There was a large seamless appendage moving from it and latching to his neck. Grabbing it steadily, ignoring the pain of his hand, Dorian tried to pull himself off and away form it. Normally he'd have witty remarks and silly things to retort with, but for some reason, fear was grabbing him by the reigns and steering him fully. The weird appendage tightened at his throat, making his vision run blurry and causing his eyes to squint at the pain. "HNg-!" He pulled and tugged, only to feel an odd sensation at his wrists. A sharp pull and Dorian's hands were pulled behind him and locking at his back. He could've sworn he heard some joints crack in an untimely fashion when it occurred. Now, unable to pull the weight off his throat, he fell his knees find the ground, snapping one against a small rock formation that had been under his feet. Oh, he'll be feeling that later on. He groaned, trying to open his mouth for air but the tie at his throat was making breathing difficult, save for a few puffs every so often. Over time, he could swear he was seeing stars. Blinking from under his lashes, Dorian heard the steps of another approaching him. Was this someone he knew? Someone who could help him? A new found adrenaline charged in his veins and his body thrashed, working against the weird blood lines.   
  
"H-help...! Please..! I can't..." Dorian tried to speak, announcing he was in need of help. His head bowed as he tried to get some kind of air into his lungs, but the odds were against him. Crunch after crunch of heels meeting stone echoed around him. Finally, they stopped, just before his forcefully knelt form.   
  
"Yes, Dorian. You've always needed help." The voice cooed almost bitterly.  "I am willing to give that to you. Whether you like it or not, it does not matter."The weakened Mage flinched, his head quickly looking upwards to the voice.  
  
"No..!" He grunted through his breath. "Nhn- not this.. Not nowhh-!" His body thrashed, legs working to stand, wanting to run away and not look back. But the more he tried, the tighter they all became.   
  
"Don't struggle. I don't want to hurt you more than I have to." The voice whispered deeply into his mind. With as deep of a breath as he could gather, Dorian screamed with a raised head.   
  
"Stop this!!" An illusion. It has to be. "You're not real! I wont fall for some demonic trick! J-just..let me go!" He tried to reason, tried to believe this was all being done by his mind. But the hand to his face made him rethink those thoughts.  
  
"No, dear boy. I'm all too real. I've let you go once, I will not make that same mistake twice." The voice of Halward Pavus stated with a business-like tone. The face of disappointment mixed with pity was staring down at the Mage. His body soon stopping it's thrashing and squirms as it had become more and more difficult to even breathe, let alone move.   
  
"Father..please.. Don't." He begged, having been brought down to his knees, forced to look up at a face he wished to never see again, it was as if Dorian had become a ten year old boy once more, begging his Father to let him run outside and play.   
  
"Be still, Dorian. This will all be over soon." Halward stated, his hand leaving Dorian's face and taking a step back in removing himself from being close to Dorian's struggle. All he was able to muster was a glare before his eyes rolled back and his body went limp against the cold stone flooring. The Fade vanished alongside the form of his father, darkness taking him entirely.


End file.
